


For the Sins of Others

by Elvishdork



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Lucifer/MC if you squint, MC death, MC with She/Her Pronouns, Reincarnation, minor season 2 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27770260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elvishdork/pseuds/Elvishdork
Summary: The best kept secret of the Devildom finally comes to light: Lilith didn’t perish in the Great Celestial War. Lilith didn’t just not die, but she created an entire family tree in the human realm.No matter how many thousands of years ago it was, Asmodeus was not wrong when he said that the information would be catastrophic if the Celestial Realm ever found out.Unfortunately when her magic starts to put the balance of the three realms in danger, the Celestial Realm is forced to act.  Twice as tragic is that it's Simeon who is forced to do it.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 69





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Minor Season 2 Ending Spoilers. 
> 
> I went with the angst route that instead of going to go fetch the ring, Simeon was playing spy for the Celestial Realm. Back in Lesson 16 Asmo said that if the Celestial Realm ever found out about Lilith becoming a human, it would've started another war. So that's the direction I took this fic in.

It happens shortly after the best kept secret of the Devildom finally comes to light: Lilith didn’t perish in the Great Celestial War. The future king of the Devildom intervened, he took the last remnants of her flickering celestial soul and turned it mortal. Then he set it off into the vast cycle of reincarnation in the human realm.

Lilith didn’t just not die, but she created an entire family tree in the human realm. 

No matter how many thousands of years ago it was, Asmodeus was not wrong when he said that the information would be catastrophic if the Celestial Realm ever found out. 

Yet still she had to wonder: How did it come to this?

Simeon has his sword drawn, and his footsteps echo on the floor of the crypt under the House of Lamentation as he approaches. Alarm bells start to go off in her head at the sight of him; his white cloak still pristine but there is blood spatter on his chest. 

Solomon tenses at the sight of the angel, but still steps in front of her as he approaches. “I take it that Luke told you how to find the crypt?”

Up above their heads they can hear the muffled battle rage on.

How did it come to this? The balance of the three realms somehow upon her shoulders, her soul somehow responsible for the shifting of power. How does one wrap their mind around the knowledge that their very existence is a danger to the continued existence of the universe?

“Simeon,” Solomon starts but only gets as far as the angel’s name.

Simeon holds his hand up, palm facing them. “Step aside, Solomon.” 

“You can’t honestly expect me to let you do this.” Solomon replies. There is a faint wisp of magic beginning to gather at his hands. 

Something catches in her own throat, any words she would’ve spoken dying on her tongue as Simeon approaches.

“I don’t take any pleasure in this. I have my orders.” Simeon says, the gap between them growing smaller and smaller with each of his strides. 

“Just because Michael -” 

“The orders are from higher up than Michael,” Simeon states. There is pain in his blue eyes as he says it. 

Solomon’s brow furrows. “I see.” 

“Stand aside, Solomon, I won’t repeat myself again.” Simeon warns. When Solomon still refuses to budge, Simeon nearly pleads, “Don’t make this worse than it needs to be.”

“She isn’t Lilith,” Solomon states. 

“Our Father’s decree about Lilith was absolute. And she,” Simeon looks to her standing behind him, “is the troubling fragment that is left of her.” 

Simeon’s eyes linger on her, searching for something he does not see. There is no resemblance to Lilith in her appearance. Not even in her brighter than human normal soul. 

However, Simeon knew the day that they met that he would kill her; such is the burden of his Father’s gift of prophecy.

“This is wrong and you know it.” Solomon states.

“I can’t refuse my orders.”

“There’s always a choice,” she says, surprising both of them. “You’ve just chosen to obey.”

Simeon grimaces. Does she know those were the same words Lilith said to him before the first war broke out? When Lucifer begged him to stand with him and take his side. When their Father first handed down the punishment to have her smote.

He steps closer, and Solomon forces her to step back. She consciously begins to drift closer to the sarcophagus with Lilith’s likeness at the end of the hall. The empty tomb left in memory of the sister they lost and never got to bury.

The one with the grimoire still atop her stone carved arms and held in place with ivy.

One of her hands drifts back behind her, cool stone meeting her waiting fingertips. If she can just get her hand on it, Lucifer will know to get to the crypt.

Perhaps it’s something Simeon realizes too, as suddenly he rushes forward to close the rest of the distance. Solomon throws his hands up, a magical ward springing into existence. Simeon slices through it, shattering the magic into thousands of glittery particles.

She completes her task, quickly turning to slam her hand atop the cover of the grimoire. Immediately after there is a terrible rumbling above them. A vague muffled echo of Lucifer’s voice.

Behind her, she hears Solomon speak.

" _Hear me, denizens of darkness, you who are born of shadow and you who give birth to it. Hear me and do as I command! I call upon you to send one of your number!_ " Solomon quickly says, the runes on his neck glowing pink under his shirt. “ _I summon the Avatar of Lu_ -” 

Simeon cuts his summoning off, tossing him across the room with a powerful backhanded punch. She watches in horror as Solomon lands painfully among the skeletal stone statues that line the niches in the crypt before he falls back to the floor with a _‘thud.’_

There is a terrible wheeze that leaves Solomon as he tries to right himself; trying to get to his knees. 

“Solomon!” she shouts his name, wanting to rush to him but Simeon blocks her path. The tip of his sword pointed at her chest. 

“I’m sorry,” he tells her before his blade runs her through. His sword running just under her xiphoid and angling to her left; into her heart and lung. 

Looking down at herself, it should be alarming how quickly her green button-up grows dark with her blood.

No words leave her as she looks back up into Simeon’s eyes. His eyes look glossy, like he’s about to cry; but then she’s not sure if it’s a trick of her own eyes as she realizes a tear has spilled down her own cheek. 

There is a terrible, room shaking shout. Her eyes dart past Simeon and she sees Lucifer standing in the entranceway. 

Simeon pulls his blade out of her chest and she falls to her knees. Before her face hits the ground there is a pair of arms gripping her shoulders and maneuvering her. Her whole world spins before it rights itself and she is looking up at Lucifer’s face. 

He looks scared and young - as young as a being first-born in creation can look. He looks like he did when he fell; terrified for his sister. But this time she is not looking through the eyes of Lilith’s memories.

She watches as the red overtakes the black in his eyes and suddenly he is looking at Simeon with an unrestrained rage. “YOU!” he bellows. 

It takes all of her strength to bring her hand up to fist into his shirt. To close her fingers around the fabric and bring his attention back to her. 

“Don’t,” she pleads, voice small and wavering. She can taste iron on her tongue; it tastes heavy in the back of her throat. “Don’t kill him.” Even now she can’t bring herself to hate him for it coming to this.

If she could turn to look, she’d see Simeon’s stunned expression. 

Instead she looks up at Lucifer’s face. His lips are forming words, but it's becoming harder to follow. 

His hand comes to cradle her face; to direct her unfocusing eyes back to him. His touch is so gentle and feather light against her skin. “I will find you again,” he tells her. “I promise. I don’t care how long it takes, I will find your soul again.”

His lips come to kiss the top of her forehead. It’s the last thing she sees as the darkness on the edges of her peripheral close in. Her world goes dark.

Then she is gone.

* * *

Simeon watches as the delicate light of her soul leaves her body. He watches Lucifer’s hand come up to hold it, then the former brother's eyes meet.

Knowing that his orders are only half fulfilled, Simeon holds out his hand, “Give it to me.” He watches Lucifer’s hold on both her soul and her body turn protective. 

“Just try to take it,” Lucifer snarls at him. 

He stands there, watching for a moment longer before his hand falls to his side. Simeon knows that the threat she posed to the three realms is now past with her death. He knows that destroying her soul isn’t necessary; but it is a part of his orders.

That fragment of Lilith lived and has been passed down through each of her descendants for over several millennia now. Without further prompting, it should remain dormant in the next reincarnation cycle.

Simeon sheaths his blade and takes the horn from his belt. He brings it to his lips and announces his victory. The sound bitter to his ears. But he knows that the longer he waits, the longer the fighting above them will carry on.

He watches as some understanding comes into Lucifer’s eyes. Simeon watches as Lucifer sets her soul free; to go forth and join the cycle of reincarnation once more. 

As the last of her light fades, returning somewhere else in the human realm, he watches Lucifer carefully lay her body down. 

Then Lucifer stands and for a moment he expects Lucifer to rush him, to begin ripping him limb from limb. It’s no less than he deserves.

But it doesn’t happen. Lucifer honors her last dying words, words wasted on him. Such is his punishment in all of this: to live. To continue on with the terrible knowledge of what tomorrow will bring. 

“Get out,” Lucifer tells him.

Simeon does not need to be told twice. He leaves, sparing a glance at Solomon who has been watching this whole exchange in silent horror as he tries to catch his breath. He says nothing to the sorcerer though. Instead he takes the stairs to the leveled remains of the House two at a time. He knows he should not be there when the other brothers arrive.

When he reaches the surface once more and sees the two armies watching the entryway to the crypt intently, he says, “It is done.” 

“And her soul?” Michael asks, expectation hanging in the silence between them.

Simeon knows better than to lie. He knows that Diavolo, standing opposite Michael at the head of the Devildom’s army, can sense a lie. 

But Michael is not Diavolo nor their Father. 

“Destroyed,” Simeon says. Michael nods solemnly, and immediately Mammon is shouting at him. Simeon turns to spot the second-born fallen warrior struggling against the hold of three of his brothers. 

“You spineless little-! She was your friend!” Mammon shouts, trying to break free of Leviathan, Beelzebub, and Satan’s hold. “She trusted you!”

But Simeon says nothing as Mammon begins to curse his existence and scream threats of ripping him apart.

Michael and Diavolo state that they will handle talks at a later date. There are wounded to tend to and dead to honor.

Michael instructs his army to return to the Celestial Realm as a large ray of light begins to engulf his side of the battlefield. Simeon does not linger. He catches the golden gaze of Diavolo before he walks into the light that returns him home.

Diavolo’s golden eyes tell him in no uncertain terms that he knows that he lied; as Simeon expected. But neither says anything and Simeon leaves the seven lords of the Devildom to settle in their grief once more.

They have a body to bury and an empty crypt that will finally see use.


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After all, once a soul has been touched, it’s hard to separate that connection.

Decades pass. The House of Lamentation is rebuilt, repaired, and life begins to carry on. 

They rebuild two uninhabited rooms: Lilith’s and their human’s. Each looks like a museum display, looking like they’re ready for their inhabitants to arrive at any moment.

The crypt under their feet has seen a small renovation too. One of the several empty tombs now bears her likeness atop it, carved in marble the same way that Lilith’s figure is. The seven demon lords are long lived creatures of memory, but even they fear one day losing the ability to recall what she looked like.

Perhaps it is selfish that her remains were not returned to the dirt or flame of the human realm, but it soothes some of the grief that has scared over the seven lords of the Devildom. 

Lucifer ties himself further with student council tasks. He buries his grief in his work. Outside the house he is as put together as he has always been. His pride does not allow for any less. 

On nights when the paperwork stack is thin, he spends his free time looking over birth records from the date that she died. Thousands and thousands of them, and no way to tell if one of them is her. He can’t hope for fate to drop her paper at his feet a second time.

It’s frustrating: the sands of the hourglass have never before felt so short in his long life. He has such a short time to find her before her mortal life is up and she slips from his grasp again.

And then he will have no records to check, no date to guide him. Just a search in the vast expanse of billions of human souls to try to find her again. 

On darker nights he wonders if she already has slipped further away. Child mortality rates have certainly improved in the human realm, but there’s always something that can easily cut their fragile mortal lives short. Accidents, tragedy, neglect; there so many possible ways he could have already missed her.

The search keeps him going, even as he finds himself stepping outside of the office within the House less and less.

Mammon, ever the best adjusted, falls back to his old role. After the Fall and losing Lilith, it was he who tucked the broken fragments of his family into bed. So he does it again.

He cooks, bringing plates of food to bedrooms and checking in on his brothers. 

There are days he goes to the human realm, summoned by the witches watching his ward and times he gets permission. Before returning home he likes to walk through London’s streets; past the places they walked through when trying to sort out the body-swap issue. Sometimes he watches the crowds, his eyes drawn to women with her hair color, her eye color, and her height. He sees bits and pieces of her in a sea of strangers.

Leviathan was always a recluse, but his shut-in tendencies have only increased in the years after her death.

Mononoke Land collects dust on his D.D.D., he can’t bring himself to play it, to see the log of how many days it’s been since she logged in, and can’t bear the thought of deleting something he played together with her. 

Games, movies, and shows shared with her take on the same shaky taboo. He buries himself in the massive aquarium taking up one of his walls. He tends to plants and fish under his command. The environment of his aquarium needs to be precise, he hyper-fixates and brings the massive tank to the point of its own self-sufficiency. Even then he doesn’t leave it alone, he nit-picks every tiny detail down to the gravel within his tank.

The author of TSL releases a new book, but Leviathan doesn’t care. He misses the hype as he tends to his schools of fish.

Satan loses himself in every book he picks up. He has always been a reader, but now he is seldom seen without his nose in a book. He buries himself in stories, devouring tales of human realm romance and adventure. He starts carrying an extra book with him, so that when he finishes one he can jump right into the next without looking up to adjust to the reality around him. 

Book after book, cover to cover and then onto the next. They are a soothing balm on the fires that lick at his insides. 

The ones that give him any sense of feeling besides anger he rereads. He reads those again and again, until the feeling that was evoked from the words within their pages fall flat and stir nothing within him once more.

It is Satan who ends up with the latest novel by “Christopher Peugeot,” a well meaning gift by Mammon who clearly didn’t recognize the name and wanted to give his brother something new to read. Satan nearly burns it on principle. How dare that angel continue to write and have his works published here in the depths of the Devildom after what he did?

But he still ends up reading it, a nagging feeling somewhere in the depths of his anger telling him that Simeon doesn’t write mindless novels. There’s always an ulterior motive between the lines of the prophet’s books. 

Asmodeus responds to his grief in bursts. There are days he functions the best out of all of them, then there are the times he is gone from the House for nights at a time before he stumbles back through the door reeking of demonus. 

Asmodeus spends those nights hunting, in a way. He finds people with her eyes, with her hair, with the sound of her voice; he charms them all and uses them all till he’s left feeling hollow. Such trysts are never satisfying. 

During the worst nights, he’ll sometimes find himself in Solomon’s bed. The sorcerer is patient with both of their grief. 

They all knew she was mortal. They knew the day would come. So why did it have to hurt so badly?

Beelzebub loses himself in cooking, naps, and workouts. It becomes a vicious cycle: eat to feed the gnawing hunger of his sin, work out to the point of exhaustion, and then he collapses into sleep beside his twin. Wash, rinse, and repeat.

He nearly clings to his twin in his sleep. Fearful that he’ll lose him too somewhere in the night.

Belphegor sleeps excessively. He was always the king of multiple naps a day, but now he sleeps through days and nights. He lives through his dreams, ignoring the world around him and only awakening when he can no longer ignore the needs of his body.

At least in his dreams he can see her again. It is preferable to the emptiness of her room in the house and the grief present in each of his older brothers.

* * *

Solomon is the first to meet her again, in a busy coffee shop of a city. 

“Is this seat taken?” the young woman asks, gesturing to a chair on the opposite end of his table in the corner. The only open seat left in the shop.

Solomon is about to tell them that it is, that he doesn’t want to be disturbed, when he catches her smile. An odd, almost overwhelming sense of familiarity washes over him. He lets her sit. A flick of his wrist under the table and the glyphs in his spell books turn into “Lorem ipsum”. 

Solomon has lived longer than any human has a right to. He has met millions of people, and seen more come and go through the long years of his life. He tries to puzzle out the stranger before him, trying to figure out why he feels like he knows them somehow. 

Together they chat, make small talk and share a few small jokes. The sense of ease and familiarity only growing within him, but Solomon cannot place this person.

It isn’t until his D.D.D. starts to buzz in his pocket that their conversation breaks. He looks at the screen and is surprised to see that it is Satan of all people who is texting him. 

“Get her number!” Satan’s message reads. Curious. 

“You know,” the young woman says over her coffee as he reads the text. “I hope it’s not weird of me to say, but I feel like we’ve met before. Strange, isn’t it?” 

Strange indeed. Solomon smiles, “I feel the same, like I’m meeting an old friend again.” They talk some more before Solomon asks for her number, which she happily gives.

Later he’ll text Satan back. 

> **Stn** : Tell me you got her number!
> 
> **monSOLO** : How did you know I met with someone new today?
> 
> **Stn** : Irrelevant. Did you get it or not?
> 
> **monSOLO** : I did, but what was so important about her number?
> 
> _... **Stn** is typing _
> 
> **Stn** : Have you read Simeon’s new book?

Solomon has to pause to blink at the screen for a moment. 

> **monSOLO** : Don’t be ridiculous. I, however, am surprised that you would.
> 
> **Stn** : I ended up with a copy. Not important. Now give me the details! 
> 
> **Stn** : Her name and her number.
> 
> _ … **monSOLO** is typing _

Normally he would weedle and needle for more information. But the oddity of Satan being the one to text him, when there is no pact between them and he barely speaks to him, has Solomon’s interest piqued. Plus the odd nature of this particular request.

Not to mention the odd feeling of familiarity he felt at the woman.

* * *

Satan knows as soon as he sees her photo. That horrible, aching hole in his chest lessens, allowing him to breathe. 

Logically he knows she is living a new life. She may not be the same. He might be wrong.

But two nights later he finds himself knocking on Lucifer’s study door. 

“Go away,” Lucifer calls. 

“Open up,” Satan replies. “I have news for you.” 

“I’m busy. Whatever it is, it can wait.” Lucifer replies. 

“It really can’t,” Satan calls back, pounding his fist over the shelf he knows will open up to his office.

The sound of the lock clicking and the door giving way under his fist has Satan pausing. Then he walks into the office to see Lucifer at his desk. It is not often that he looks like the oldest being in the three realms, but Satan can see his age in the sleepless dark circles under Lucifer’s eyes. 

Satan puts the small profile he complied on the desk between them. “I found her.” 

* * *

A young human woman is standing in the student council chamber as Lord Diavolo explains the details of the “Exchange Program” she’s been selected for. 

“Now why don’t I introduce you to your new roommates?” Diavolo says with a wide smile. “Barbatos, if you would?” 

The butler excuses himself, leaving behind a set of double doors; leaving the two of them alone for a few minutes. 

Diavolo’s golden eyes seem to peer into her very soul. Little does she know that they actually do. The prince of the Devildom looks at her shiny soul and thinks to himself that it is slightly brighter than a human’s normally is. 

No doubt she is the same soul back again.

Then Barbatos returns, leading the Seven Lords of the Devildom into the student council chamber. There is a moment's pause as seven pairs of eyes meet her’s. Each of them feels the air knocked out of their lungs at the sight of her, the weird way that words seem to trap themselves in their throats.

The moment hangs in the air between them all as she stands there. 

“Hello,” she finally breaks the silence. Looking at each of them, that nervous energy dissipates. “It’s nice to meet you,” she says as she tells them her name. 

Each of them introduces themself to her. Each of them looks at her, looks at her soul, and feels a wave of familiarity wash over them. 

Each of their pacts have long since broken with her death, but still they see the tiniest trace of their magic on her soul. Small swirls of color hidden among the bright white of her soul. Tiny specks of blue, yellow, orange, green, pink, red, and purple.

At the end of each of their introductions, she says, “I feel like we’ve met before.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ask and sometimes you shall receive! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Comments and thoughts are always encouraged and greatly appreciated! ♥

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and thoughts are always enjoyed! Take care of yourselves, stay safe and healthy out there!


End file.
